“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label east. Show all posts
Showing posts with label east. Show all posts
Saturday, December 1, 2018
The hardest directions are the ones we follow
Take a left, or a right?
Go West-toward the ocean.
So, left or right?
Where are you now?
I'm in your neck of the woods.
I think you have gone too far.
Left or right?
Straight-toward the ocean.
I've come around the bend.
Drive-thru to the dead end.
Are there any land marks? I am lost...
If you keep going, you will find it.
Painting by Michael Zeno Diemer (1867-1939), Pera Museum [Public domain].
Thursday, March 2, 2017
A bluebird likely named Emily D.
He landed in the driveway,
his breast was heaving and his
head cocked at me-
Who found herself smiling.
With a twitch she switches sides,
she strobes a cocked moment.
A second later, he shook himself,
his feathers fluffed and
re-stacked,
he unpacked his folded wardrobe,
whipping out wrinkles
and flew towards the mountains
-East.
Warm body, she faced the fading sun.
Painting by Rubens Peale,1865 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Painting by Rubens Peale,1865 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Justice
It is only with calloused hands that the heavy body can claw and leverage the self upward on the thorny vine of a life without wince and whi...
-
Natures touch is both gentle and fierce. Homo sapiens trample on her back. The thick skin impossible to pierce. So...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
-
Family members, Party members, Americans and American'ts: There will be no favors! Some were lovable, some detestable at b...
